David Haig is one of those
actors whose
name on a cast list fills you with anticipatory joy. You just know
he'll be the best thing in the show and that, despite being
absolutely reliable, he'll still do things that surprise you.

He is
equally adept at broad comedy – he has the greatest double-take and
slow burn since Oliver Hardy – and serious drama, underplaying so
subtly that a small pause or gesture can speak volumes.

In Pressure,
which he wrote as well as starring in, he plays a little man that
history has all but forgotten, and not only creates a real and fully
rounded character but convinces us of his heroic stature.

We are in
Portsmouth in June 1944, as the largest invading force ever assembled
prepares for D-Day. And David Haig plays Dr James Stagg, the
weatherman who has to tell Eisenhower whether it will be safe to
go.

The problem, as is very
clearly explained in the play, is that there
are major storms crossing the north Atlantic and clear weather moving
up from the south.

Which will get to the
English Channel first?
Eisenhower's own staff meteorologist says one thing and Stagg says
the other, and it really really matters who is right.

I won't tell
you how things turn out, so you'll have to see the play to learn
whether D-Day happens. But so skilful is the writing and the ensemble
playing under John Dove's direction that knowing the ending does not
prevent real tension and suspense from building up, or playwright
Haig's guesses at the personalities and interactions from ringing
true.

Actor Haig introduces Stagg
as the kind of boffin who can
enrage by being so sure of himself and disdainful of the less expert.
But he makes the man grow and deepen as he recognises the
dedication
and commitment (and expertise in their own fields) of those around
him, and the absolute necessity of getting his part right.

Playwright
Haig has done his research and (assuming this is true) makes the fact
that Stagg's wife is in hospital that weekend for the potentially
dangerous birth of his son a deepening and humanising force on his
character.

(There are other presumably
accurate little facts –
Winston Churchill gave Ike's driver one of his trademark overalls to
use when fixing the car, Air Field-Marshall Leigh-Mallory hated
cigarette smoke – that add verisimilitude to the things Haig
invents.)

After Haig's portrayal of
Stagg, the most significant
character in the play is Kay Summersby, Eisenhower's aide, driver and
(if gossiping historians are to be believed) mistress.

Laura Rogers
plays her as obviously in love with Ike, whatever their relationship,
but more importantly as a woman of great strength, wisdom and
sensitivity.

She knows exactly when a
cup of tea, some deliberately
distracting small talk or a touch of bullying is what men on the edge
of breaking under pressure most need, and her quiet interventions
contribute significantly to holding things together.

Malcolm
Sinclair's Eisenhower towers over everyone else, both physically and
as a personality, but playwright and actor make us see the weight of
the burden leadership carries. And the portrait is saved from mere
hagiography by showing us a man capable of casually discarding his
most dedicated supporters when he has used them up.

A major function
of historical drama is to give human faces to mere names in the
textbooks. Pressure not only convinces you that everyone might
actually have been like this, but holds your attention and emotions
throughout a very real drama.